


Through The Body

by lucius_complex



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Asexual Character, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucius_complex/pseuds/lucius_complex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony can never quite believe there will ever be a perfect fit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through The Body

**Author's Note:**

> Because I've made you cry, here's something to make you smile.

_ _

**THROUGH THE BODY**

 

_Sometimes the way to milk and honey is through the body._

_Sometimes the way in is a song._

_But there are three ways in the world: dangerous, wounding,_

_and beauty._

 

He’s reading on the sofa when the light flickers, followed by a swirl of green sparks that resolves itself into the tall, impossibly gorgeous form of Asgard’s god of mischief and occasional earth tourist.

‘So you’re back,’ the mortal grunts.

‘Indeed. Although you needs not sound so surprised _every single time_ , Anthony.’

Out of the corner of his eye Tony can see Loki gliding across the room, closing the distance between them until the god’s leg was grazing his knees on the sofa. Tony stiffens, feeling his face heat up under the sudden onslaught of attention.

‘So,’ the god mummers, sotto voce. ‘Did you miss me?’

Tony stares with great concentration at random words on his Starkpad, clutching it like a lifeline against the panic beginning to brew in his chest.

‘Of course I didn’t,’ he announces with as much bluster as he can summon on short notice. Loki merely laughs at the lie and crawls on the sofa uninvited, ignoring the upset noises that Tony makes at his presumptuousness.

‘What are you doi-’ the mortal begins, but before Tony can blink he is no longer in his comfortable lotus position but tangled up against much longer legs, spooned by a sly and persistent god whose face is suddenly much too near. And then he finds himself watched by eyes that are much too warm and much too purposeful for Tony’s comfort.

Loki’s foot nudges into Tony’s. His toes are cold, and Tony’s glare deepens even as Loki’s smile sheds weight and increases in mirth. Once alone the god of mischief has taken to adopting a very private, blatantly different persona; a lighter and more genuine aspect of himself that nobody would believe even if they saw it.

Tony certainly doesn’t, and as far as he knows he’s the only person to have seen it.

‘Give me back my Starkpad,’ Tony grouses, although his heart is shedding weight and _singing_. ‘Your stupid feet is cold.’

‘Is it?’ The god sighs earnestly, obviously not listening. His arms tightens around Tony’s shoulders, drawing them together. ‘You don't know how I’ve been dreaming of this.’

‘Of _this_ you say?This.. flaffing about? _’_ Tony says flatly. Here it is, the opening he needs to say everything he’s been thinking about. ‘Loki, look… this cannot possibly be enough for you.’

‘Why not? Holding you like this is divine,’ Loki answers. His voice is husky, intimate. His presence is quicksand to Tony’s tenuous grip on his coherence, not to mention his sanity.

 _Decades_ of effort and millions of dollars spent on the most sophisticated spin doctoring campaign in the modern world, and Loki had exposed his asexuality and torn off his disguise within hours of meeting him. But that part he understood implicitly. Its fun to tear a wall down. Satisfying.

The part that Tony still doesn’t get is why Loki is _still here._ After all this time. And really, one of them should _do_ something about it.

Anytime now.

But Tony remains frozen because Loki is _beautiful,_ the chemistry between them unexpectedly gentle and achingly sweet and the mortal finds his mind blank and his heart hammering painfully, just at the privilege of something as simple as observing this hidden face.

The realisation that someone of Tony's condition can get to experience this type of affection, given so freely that it surely had to be false. His heart twists. This hopeless infatuation is going to kill him one day.

The god of lies presses a chaste kiss on his lips and draws away. ‘What ails you?’

 _'You_ do. I don’t understand why you’re satisfied with so little.’

Loki’s hands run lightly along Tony’s arms, tracing the curves of his shoulder blades. His eyes are silted, luminous but revealing little of his true thoughts.

Having opened his can of worms Tony decides to plough on. ‘I see the way you look at me.’

‘I _like_ looking at you.’ The god’s hands shifts, sweeping down his waist to rest lightly against the small of Tony’s back.

 _You look at me sexually_ , Tony wants to say, but as usual those words are stuck deep in his throat.

‘Anthony,’ the god presses a kiss to his cheek. ‘You should really stop overthinking things.’

Tony wonders if he should just make an excuse, go back into the lab and hide there until Loki pops away again. It’s worked once or twice before.

He wants answers though. He can’t do this indefinitely. It’s breaking his thrice-damn, supposedly non-existent _heart._

‘Anthony,’ Loki repeats, more firmly. Then he wraps his arms around Tony in a way that practically drags him back down, molded firmly against the god’s broader chest. It only makes him feel more guilty and self-conscious, although he hears Loki make a muffled sigh that sounded suspiciously like gratification. _‘Mmmmfh.’_

Whatever. He refuses to believe that any partner could be so easily mollified, much less this one. Frustrated by his lack of progress, Tony tries again. ‘Look. It’s not like you need money or there's anything I can possibly give to you, so why-‘

But Loki is by now completely distracted by his human scent, nosing the skin on Tony’s clavicle and making him squirm with how ticklish it feels.

‘You’re going to give me a crick,’ the mortal complains, scowling fiercely to cover the honest-to-goodness _giggle_ that is threatening to climb out of his throat. This is why their talks never go anywhere – because Loki is just too damn good at distraction tactics. ‘Stop it.’

Having successfully conquered the crook of Tony’s neck Loki refuses to relinquish his newly claimed territory; his voice comes out muffled and breathy.

‘I’m the god of _lies,_ Anthony. Stop pretending you don’t love it when I do this.’

‘And this is going to be good enough for you until when? Next week? Next month?’

A pause hangs in the air, before Loki finally draws away, eyebrows knotting. ‘Just because I enjoy touching you, does not mean I intend to ravish you.’

Tony tries not to let his hackles show. ‘Then why do you stay? If not for eventual-’ he waves an abstract hand, attempting to put it into words.

A sharp eyebrow lifted. ‘Eventual ravishment?’ the god drawls.

‘Shut up.’

Loki shrugs. ‘I don’t have a problem with your lack to interest in carnal matters. It’s true that I desire you physically, but sex is simply one single facet of a multiple surfaced issue. Whilst I realize you don’t believe me-‘

‘I didn’t say that,’ Tony protests. Loki gives him a scathing look and continues.

‘I have already told you, you think too much. Withholding my lusts, such as it is for the duration of a mortal lifespan is not _quite_ the prodigious sacrifice you seem so keen to think it is. Why don’t you just admit that this works just as well for you as it does for me?’

Unable to answer, Tony stares at his hands on Loki’s chest. He often felt vulnerable in Loki’s presence, brittle in a way that he’d never expected to be _relieved_ to feel. But rather than aversion, this seems to bring out a side of the god that is both tender and tolerant.

There’s something about them that slots together in frighteningly unforeseen ways; things that aren’t ordinarily acceptable within the confines of their chosen roles. Behavior that Tony wouldn’t have seen in himself or in Loki in a million years, had he not been privy; the other half to this very private revelation.

 As if with each other, they could be the thing the world does not allow.

‘We do nothing that I do not willingly undertake of my own free will. I can assure you, I’m really not the sacrificing sort.’ The god’s mouth quirks with humor. ‘Or have you forgotten the rather illustrious context of my coming to Midgard?’

He doesn’t want to talk anymore, so he kisses Loki, a viper-fast peck that leaves the god blinking at him with bemused affection.

‘If this is your rather feeble attempt to seduce me,’ Tony tells him, ‘-your bedroom voice needs improving.’

In answer, Loki rolls them both over and presses his lover down into the sofa.

‘There’s enough time,’ he says firmly, and although his voice is assertive the mortal can hear the questions lurking beneath. ‘-to get in plenty of practice.’

Humming softly, Tony winds his arms around his neck, fingers threading into the long hair there.

‘I guess I've got quite a few years in me yet.’

 

[FINI]

 

 

_To enter stone, be water._

_To rise through hard earth, be plant_

_desiring sunlight, believing in water._

_To enter fire, be dry._

_To enter life, be food._

 

_~The Way In, by Linda Hogan_

 

 


End file.
